Sweet Wishes Can Heal
by SunflowerAsylum
Summary: Ivan shows up at Tino's house unannounced at night in the midst of the formation of a powerful blizzard. But something is clearly wrong...


Here's the full summary:

Ivan shows up at Tino's house unannounced at night in the midst of the formation of a powerful blizzard.  
But something is clearly wrong... Winter has torn away and destroyed two precious entities belonging to the powerful nation, leaving Russia fatally wounded in the General's fit of anger and causing Ivan to run to the only person who he barely has left. The two, who have had a strained, somewhat brotherly relationship for the longest of time, are now stuck together in the Finnish man's house for the time being as the storm (and danger) passes and the stubborn man heals.

Implied relationships:  
Russia/England  
Finland/China

May contain:  
Mentions of OC's (*fandom sighs and thinks 'Great.'* )  
Descriptions of violence, violent outbursts, use of tools as weapons, torture, possible trauma and mental torture.  
Descriptions of child abuse, torture and death by mutilation, bleeding out and the cold.  
Not sure if there will be smut in the future so I'll keep this thing here just in case.

* * *

A melodious hum filtered through the ground level of the medium sized house followed by a most gloriously sweet scent. The tune, a most familiar one, brought sound to the very few in the household with it's simplistic yet beautiful rhythm. Warm yet not heavy, the air hovering throughout the room could thaw the coldest of souls with its cozy hugs and tickles, as it mixed with the heavenly scent of pastries being baked. Overall the homey smells and array of bright hues forming from the fireplace, sprawling across the cold colour themed living room, could brighten up anyone's night. Everything was peaceful. Calm. Relaxing. The electronic clock on the kitchen counter flickered the time in a display of block, green digital letters. 11:08pm. Sounds of pans clattering against granite and sizzling pastries added colours in the already lively household. Lively, but not entirely active, save for one lone nation who in the midst of night found comfort in solitute. Restless like always, a particular Finnish man circled the island counter of his modern kitchen, the tune still whispering from the front of his throat in loop as he pulled the piping hot and absolutely delectable sticky bun pastries everyone enjoyed from their fiery trap. Though Tino himself actively moved about, the house remained still. Upstairs, sleeping bodies rested peacefully within their according rooms, and the pets lay their weary heads at the foot of the door. (How do they sleep through this wind? He'll never know...) With the children sleeping soundly and the air outside howling wails of warning, Tino spent his last hour of peace killing time by baking. The daytime brought various levels of stress and challenge for him, especially on Wednesdays and Fridays... Between having to deal with other nation's bullshit, comforting some and keeping up with all of these damn little kids running around- I mean precious little... shits... All the clusterfuckery of the day came crashing around him somehow. The only comfort the man could get was late at night when there are no needy voices around him, no requests, no cries or pleas or obnoxious sounds... Just silence for the most part. 9 o'clock to 12 o'clock at night was the only time slot of absolute peace he could find for himself. How exactly did he occupy himself? Who knows. He polished his sniper rifle, baked, looked through old photos or trinkets he found along the way. Some memories tended to be too hard for him to bear however... Other times the Finn tended to read or pass the hours by watching television (which actually began to bore him ever since his favourite show went on hiatus.) Above all, simply sitting around and sipping a cup of cocoa sufficed.

Tip-toeing around the kitchen again, Tino began to tidy up the mess he created earlier. Nothing big really, just a bit of flour here, there, everywhere... The dishes piled in the sink were filthy because a child who we shall not name didn't do his chores now did they~?... The pastries needed to be put aside, the pan they were on needed to be scrubbed, counters wiped really badly and the stove too, for it was splattered with bits of batter and other substances. 11:10pm. Tino paused, glimpsing over at the clock flickering dim light across the cool coloured counter. The light blue kitchen towel he had clasped tightly in hand found itself being tossed aside carelessly as the Finn rested both of his elbows on the smooth surface of the kitchen counter, his violet eyes still scanning the green numbers fixated tightly on their current display. "Almost time to make a wish~!" His lips curled in to a smile with his light whispering to himself. For whatever reason, the cheerful man had taken up a curious superstition- if you could call it that- where he'd always make a wish as the clock struck 11:11. As childish as it seems the small act brought hope and the tiniest sense of joy to the man's life. And every chance Tino got he'd encourage the others to join him as well. Bright eyes anxiously awaited the shift in time, watching the clock stand still on the same set of numbers for what seemed like forever. "Hmm~" The low hum that previously hung in the man's throat escaped his vocal chords again, softer and quieter this time around.

Waiting.

11:10pm…

…

11:10pm…

…

11:10pm...

...

11:11pm!

Screwing his eyes shut with a smile the Finnish man reached out in to his deepest of thoughts. He murmured to himself in scrambled words before uttering a single, solid, sentence.

_"I wish I could bring the family closer together..."_

His purple eyes fluttered open after a few more seconds of silence passed, making their gaze over towards the window across from him. Outside the wind wailed and whipped up again, a blizzard churning to life with each single fragment of snow weighing down on to the blanket that had cradled the earth previously. 11:11 still. Tino sighed lightly, shifting from his previous position to stand and continue on his cleaning duty. He shuffled around a bit, snatching up the cloth he was so set on using to wipe the counters off finally but then stiffened in place at a sudden sound. "Ah..?" Had he imagined that just now..? A knocking sound..? Rap, tap, tap… Rap, tap, tap… The noise picked up again, louder and more rushed. Forget the rag dude. He dropped the fluffy hand towel again, cautiously stepping out and in to the living room. Violet eyes sharpened as every sense in his body was alerted. "Who could be here at such an hour? I swear if Winter is messing with me again…" He scoffed to himself, trying to ease his edgy nerves. A certain chill hop-scotched down his back at the mentioning of General Winter however… With the kids upstairs, would such a light-hearted attitude be the right façade to put on..? The knocking came again, more frantic and uneven. Outside the winds whistled agonizingly jolting another bone-chilling shiver down his spine. Something was… Off... Too off for comfort... Step by step Tino shuffled backwards and towards the hall closet on the other side of the room. "I'll be there in just a minute..~" His voice was laced with friendly intent which masked the terrified and slightly irritable tone hidden in his throat. Once over near the closet, he set to swiftly rummage through the small area, searching for his favourite weapon to deal with cold blooded bastards. (A.k.a Winter, and in some cases, Ivan.)

"A-hah~!" Fully fueled and ready to set fire to your face, Tino pulled out the ROKS–2 flamethrower from a special case he had stored. Triumphantly he gave the weapon a short inspection before his attention returned towards the rapping at the door that came again. It had weakened significantly, sounding in shaky, uneven rhythms. "Be holding your horses! Geez…" He called out, adjusting the flamethrower in his arms as he crept back over to the door. "Who is there..?" He asked confidently, peering through the peep hole yet only seeing nothing but… Grey…? No response. A cough caught itself in Tinos' throat as he spoke again. "I asked… Who is it?" Yet again no response… The only sounds were the wind and a faint groan of the house as the wind shook around it. Reaching out, the Finn ever so slowly unlocked the door, hand slipping down to the doorknob with hesitation. Turn, turn, click. He heard the mechanisms in the metal echo, though kept his hand still for the longest of times. The winds kicked again, a weight bearing down on the door or perhaps was it the strength of his arms leaving him with each uneasy feeling gutting in his intestines? Eventually he broke away from those negative feelings, shoving the door open with a good amount of force. THUD. "What the hell..?!" Tino cried out, eyes staggering from the clouded whitish black blur of the scenery to the mass that landed harshly on the patio of his house. Almost instantaneously, the Finn's face paled an expression of shock and horror mixing together as he stepped over to the... body... "What is he doing here oh god oh god…!" Tino's hands shook as he kneeled, violet eyes widening at the sight of blood gushing from multiple lacerations, puncture wounds and abrasions painted in abstract patterns across the body of a familiar face. The tender cloth of the mans body was stained and ripped to utter shreds, some of the pieces of fabric sticking to tissue or worse yet to bone where there should be tissue... Only one article seemed to remain mostly in tact, the rest beyond repair... A groan came from the man lying adjacent to Tino, heavily-pained lilac eyes cracking open with a hiss of agony as they matched the Finn's own violet orbs. The Finnish man's breath hitched in his throat for a moment.

"I-Ivan..?!"

* * *

Notes:

Hahahah hey look a fanfiction. *nervous sweating* This is kind of a shitty chapter so I may go back and edit it...

The lack of RusFin here was saddening so I decided to write a small drabble which turned in to quite a few pages in my notebook. Oops. I do hope you enjoy it!

This is my first serious Hetalia fanfiction focused on two characters. It's somewhat based on an old rp group I belonged in (as far as the implied relationships can go and the current status between the absolutely amazing Finland in the group and my Russia.) which is actually starting up again~!  
There are four minor oc's which are mainly just mentioned through out the story with marginal to no interaction at all. (Two are dead when they're first mentioned, so don't worry about them) The oc's are also based off events of the rp group as well.

I really have no idea how far I'm going to go with this fic so I listed possible warnings just in case? When writing with Winter I can get rather... Obsessed with things and get too far in to it so I'm not sure what'll happen. I'll change the rating if I can, depends on how far I go.

I'm really terrible at writing descriptions so I do apologise. Bear with me if you can however. uvu


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